Irredeemable
by David Carner
Summary: Sarah Walker finds herself out of the CIA. Alone with only her thoughts, her minds begins to ask the question is she Irredeemable.
1. Ch 1, Ex-Spy

A/N: I've had a very bad weekend and my mind went a little dark. This is the result.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck

* * *

She was done, it was over. She lowered her head and stared at the floor. She looked at the phone, lying on the floor, that she had let fall from her hand after Graham had told her that Bryce was dead. "Walker," she heard. She reached down and picked up the phone.

"I'm here…"

"I know it's a shock, Agent-"

"I'm done," she said, before he could continue. Years of her life had been spent taking other lives, and now, her partner had betrayed the United States. He was dead, having been shot before he could transfer the data that he had stolen. Bryce Larkin was a traitor, and she was a nothing to the CIA but a murderer; a tool, a means to an end for jobs that no one else dared do.

She had seduced and killed so many that she wondered if she had ruined the child's life she had saved, just by touching her.

"What do you mean, done?" Graham asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"I'm done," she said. "I'll be out of this apartment tomorrow. It's not like I have anything here."

"Where will you go, what will you do?" Graham asked, his tone changing. She knew what was coming… he was going to offer her time off. It was his go-to, but since the baby, since Ryker… "Agent Walker, you need a vacation."

"Director, I quit," she said, and hung up the phone.

}o{

One week later found her in Burbank, California. She had left the CIA, although she was sure Graham wouldn't file her papers until her six months of vacation time ran out. She had looked in on Molly and her Mom, and that's when she realized she had no one, she had nothing. She didn't know the last time she had spent so much time by herself, and her thoughts were creeping in on her. Her memories of everything she had done over the last eight years plagued her. Every con, kill, and seduction ran through her mind.

Letting men, and women, touch her; promise them things, only to end up killing them, or setting them up to look like they had no one to turn to except her… She wondered if she would feel less dirty if she had followed through with sex with any of them.

"I'm worthless," she said, muttering to herself at the hotel bar.

"I highly doubt that," the older man said behind the bar. Sarah jerked her head up, thinking the bar was empty. She had wanted to be by herself, but her room was a special shade of green she just couldn't tolerate. "What are you drinking?"

"I shouldn't," she began, when he pushed a drink toward her. "It's early."

"And yet, here you are, in a bar," the man replied. "It's a special mojito."

"It's good," Sarah said, taking a sip, and feeling the warmth spread through her body like a fire. "Sorry, I really thought no one was in here."

"It's fine," he said, giving her a smile and going back to work, stocking the bar. "Now, what do you mean you're worthless?"

"I mean," she paused… she really shouldn't do this, but… "Nothing makes sense like it should." The man picked up a glass and rag, and began to clean it, listening. "I threw a dart at a board as to where I should stay in California, and I ended up here," she said, looking around the bar. "Not the bar, but the hotel."

"I get it," the bartender replied, smiling warmly. "But that doesn't make you worthless."

"If you knew everything I've done," she began, but she just shrugged and shook her head.

"Hey," the bartender said, making her lock eyes with him. "I know that look, I've heard that tone." He shoved a card across the bar with a number on it. "Promise me that before you do what you're thinking about, you call this number."

"I'm not," she began.

"Promise me," he said, softly, but firmly.

"Okay," she said, nodding, and taking the card. "How much do I owe you?"

"As long as you promise to call, it's on the house," the bartender said.

"Promise," she said. The bartender nodded at her, and went back to the glasses. "Thanks," she said, standing up and heading toward the door. She turned back to say something, but he was gone.

}o{

Sarah stood there, watching Bryce being laid to rest. At least she _assumed_ Bryce was in the casket. For all she knew it was an empty box.

She saw a tall, lanky man, that she thought might actually be someone who really knew Bryce. He was the only one that looked… uncomfortable. As good as CIA agents were giving the appearance of sadness, they all had trouble believing they were mortal. Even Bryce himself seemed to think he was immortal.

She watched the man, watching the coffin, and wondered what, if anything, did he know about Bryce's real life. As she continued to watch him, he suddenly turned, looking at her. She gave him a nod, and turned back toward the coffin. When the service was over, she wasn't surprised that he had made his way to her.

"Hi, Chuck Bartowski," he said, extending his hand. "I was Bryce's roommate in college."

"I worked with him," Sarah replied. "Sarah Walker."

"Nice to meet you," Chuck said. "I haven't seen him since college."

"Real life, drift apart, that kinda thing?" Sarah asked with a smile. She watched him struggle. She wasn't sure what had happened between them, but it was significant.

"Bryce got me kicked out of college," he said softly.

"Oh my God," Sarah said, covering her mouth. She looked at the casket and then back to Chuck. "So, why are you here?"

"Because, there had to be a reason," Chuck replied with a shrug. "And while I am… still not happy about it, no one is past redemption."

Sarah scoffed a laugh. "Sorry, it's just… there are some people that are."

"No," Chuck said, shaking his head. "At least I don't think so. But maybe I'm naive, and that's what went wrong. I don't know," he said with a shrug. "Anyway, it was a pleasure to meet you."

He stood there looking uncomfortable. He was going to ask her out, that's what was coming. She steadied herself for it.

"Is there any chance he ever mentioned me? I hate to ask, I'd just like to know if he ever… I don't know, regretted it."

She stood there, a little surprised. She couldn't tell them how close they had been. "No, Chuck, I'm afraid he never did."

Chuck nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Sarah Walker, and, I'm sorry for your loss."

"You too, Chuck," she said.

She watched him walk away. He thought no one was past redemption. She shook her head. Someone should scoop him up, cherish and protect him. He was special, and that was why she was never going to let him know just how much she had enjoyed just talking to him.

}o{

It was days later when she finally accepted it. She was a killer, she was a con artist, and there wasn't one redeeming thing about her. She stared at the gun on her table, and picked it up. She checked, making sure there was a round chambered in the pistol. She closed her eyes, and stuck the barrel under her chin, pointing up.

_P__romise me_ came through her thoughts.

She sighed, laid the gun down, and grabbed her purse. There, lying on top as soon as she opened it, was the card with the number.

"Oh, what the hell," she muttered. She grabbed her phone and dialed the number.

"Nerd Herd, Chuck Bartowski," she heard on the other end. She stared at the phone, and quickly hung up. Someone had pranked her. But who? How? She stared at the gun.

"I gotta figure this out," she said, taking the magazine out of the gun, and ejecting the round from the chamber.

}o{

She felt like she was becoming a stalker. It started three days prior, after Chuck had answered the phone at the Buy More. She went to the bar, described the man who gave her the card with the phone number, but no one matched that description. She found the security guard, and convinced him to let her see the security tapes of her in the bar that morning. There was footage of her entering and exiting, but nothing on the bartender.

She began to follow Chuck, and compile a dossier on him. She had all of his academic records, had called in favors and had his NICS record run. It had come back clean. He seemed to be exactly what he appeared to be. But if that was so, why then did the bartender tell her to talk to him?

She followed him home, to his sister's apartment, and began surveillance again. So far, nothing, but she would figure this out. At some point, she would figure all of this out.

}o{

For three weeks she watched him, and she found absolutely nothing. The door opened, and he came outside to sit at the fountain. That was nothing new. What was new this time, was that he sat on the edge that faced the entrance way. He stared in her direction, but she knew he couldn't see her. He patted the seat next to him, and her eyes grew wide. She started the car and pulled away. How had he known?

}o{

A few days later, she pulled up in a service van with tinted windows. She still hadn't figured out how he had seen her, and she was beginning to think he hadn't… that she had just freaked out, for no good reason. Her stomach grumbled, and she shook her head. She had forgotten to eat. A knock on her driver's side window almost made her jump through the roof of the car. She looked over, finding a GrubHub delivery driver.

She rolled down her window. Checking the receipt, he said "Delivery to… the pretty blonde lady, courtesy of Chuck Bartowski," as he handed her the bag. She took it, her eyes wide. "He left instructions that if you would like to share this sizzling shrimp, go knock on his bedroom window." She stared at him. "Lady, I think he'll go out with you if you just ask." With that the delivery man walked away. Sarah stared at the bag she had placed in the passenger seat. She rolled up the window, and drove away.

}o{

She hadn't trailed him in a few days, and she began to wonder what she was doing. It had been a little over a month since she had decided it was over, that she needed to end things, but she felt like she had one loose end: Chuck Bartowski. She felt like if she did it now… she would regret it. In fact, if she were absolutely honest, she hadn't even thought about doing it in weeks. The only reason it crossed her mind today was she found the loose bullet, that had been in the chamber, in her purse. She had stared at it, and then at the card.

For the first time since she had thought about ending her life, she found she wasn't ready. She found she had something more to do. She looked over in the passenger seat of her car and saw the bag. He came out of the Buy More, just like clockwork. Starting the car, she left her parking spot, and pulled up beside him. He stared at her. She reached over, grabbed the bag of sizzling shrimp, and held it up.

"I know a place," he said, his eyes soft. She nodded, and he got into the car.

}o{

She sat on a blanket on the beach, watching the waves crash against the shore. He sat quietly beside her. "You sure you won't get fired?"

"Even if Big Mike did, he'd have to rehire me next week to straighten out the damage Jeffster did," he replied with a shrug.

"That sounds like some sort of infection," Sarah said, having no idea what a _Jeffster_ was.

"There is not a strong enough antibiotic to rid us of that plague," he muttered. She snorted at that, and he turned to her, studying her. "So, you've been following me."

"How do you know that?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"I kept having a feeling, you know?" She nodded. "I may have… uh… hacked the security cameras around the apartment complex."

"What security cameras?"

"The city's…" he replied, swallowing loudly. "I was a little freaked out at first." She just stared at him, more amazed than ever. "I-I thought…" He laughed, and then shook his head. "That funeral was weird. You were the only 'real' person there."

"I was," she said softly. "Bryce and I worked for… a government agency."

"Spies," Chuck said, excitedly. "OMG! It makes so much sense, all those in attendance…"

"I've told my former boss that those sent didn't grieve convincingly," she muttered. Chuck turned to her with a smile. "Listen, I need to know something… did you really mean what you said to me, about redemption?"

"I did," Chuck replied. "Is that why you were following me?"

"I followed you, because someone gave me your number to call you if…" she trailed off, shocked at how close she had come to admitting the truth to him.

He was watching her, a look of utter amazement on his face. "I used to come here after Bryce… after Stanford," Chuck began. "One night… it hurt really, really bad. It was dark, and I screamed. I looked up at the heavens, and I screamed why am I here, what did I do to deserve this? First my mom, then my dad, then Bryce."

Sarah watched him, the pain on his face, the raw emotion.

"I screamed that unless there was a reason… I was going to end it all." He dropped his head and was silent for a moment. "I had it figured out," he said softly, his head still down.

"A man came into the store the next day, his cell phone broken, and I fixed it for him. It took a few seconds, and he made a call, to his little girl. He hung up, and looked at me. He pulled out a blank card, and asked me to write the phone number down of the Nerd Herd desk, so I did."

Sarah's eyes went wide. She grabbed her bag, dug in it, found the card and pulled it out. She looked at it, and thrust it at him. He glanced at it, and locked eyes with her. He gave a simple head nod.

"He told me that I'd helped someone talk to their little girl. I make a difference, and it must seem like a dead-end job, and I may hate it." Tears were running down Chuck's face. "One day, someone may really need this number. He held the card up and looked me right in the eye, Sarah."

She held his gaze, enthralled with each word. "He said asked me if he could give it to someone who really needed it." He was quiet for a moment. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I do," she replied. "I shouldn't, but I do." There was silence for a moment. "What happened to your parents?"

"That's the story you get the next time we meet," Chuck said softly.

"There's not going to be a next time, Chuck," Sarah replied.

"You're not irredeemable. I have no idea what you did, but I know if you were given this number, then…"

"Who gave me that number, Chuck?"

"You know," Chuck replied. Deep down, she did.

}o{

She stared at the woman in front of her. The CIA agent, the Ice Queen. She stared at her for a long time. "It ends today," she said, tears falling down her face. She aimed at her forehead, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. A bullet hole appeared in the middle of her forehead. She kept pulling the trigger until the gun was empty, and the life size picture of herself didn't have a face left.

She dropped the gun and stared at the picture. A warm hand slid over her hand that had just emptied the magazine. "It's time to begin a new life," he said to her. She nodded. "You made a brave choice, and that's one of many reasons why you're redeemable."

"I'm still not sure, but I'm willing to let you change my mind," she said, turning toward him.

"How long do I have?"

"Oh, I dunno… how long do you need?"

"I could probably think up reasons until I die," Chuck replied with a shrug.

"Okay," she said, scared, raw, but excited. "Chuck, I need to tell you a long story, and if you run away or change your mind, I understand."

"I'm here," he told her. She nodded. He was. And maybe he was right, maybe she was redeemable.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. If you find yourself in such a spot, and aren't comfortable talking to me, or anyone, 1-800-273-8255. No matter what anyone else ever tells you, I'm here to say, we need you, you would be missed, and I am begging you to stay. Hate is an awful thing, but there are those here that need you, stay.


	2. Ch 2, Cut the Crap

A/N: You guys….I mean….fine. (To be clear…I was never at any point thinking about doing what Sarah was. I was told something that sent me down a bit of a dark road and of course my mind did what it does and said, "What would Sarah/Chuck do?" Hence, this fic. Thank you for the outpouring of concern. I am fine. Steampunk would kill me if I tried something.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

* * *

She was sitting in her hotel room, staring at the casing of one of the bullets she had fired into her picture. It was just like her; empty. She was nothing. She shook her head, trying to rid it of those thoughts. She _was_ something, she just couldn't see it yet. Isn't that what Chuck said?

"God, I wish you were here right now," she said softly. She then jumped, when a knock sounded at her door, a happy-sounding knock. She swallowed, wiped at eyes that had been tearing a bit, and walked to the door. She took a deep breath, opened it, and there he was.

"Hi," he said with a smile. "I hope I'm not intruding-"

"God, no," she said, opening the door wide to invite him in. "I was just sitting here…"

"Thinking?" he asked, with a sad smile on his face. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, but she stopped when she saw the bag he was holding. "I had an idea, and it's a little weird, buttttt, considering the source…" he trailed off. He shrugged, pressing his lips together, and blowing out his cheeks some.

She thought it was the most adorable thing she had ever seen in her life. "Is that for me?" she asked, almost shyly. And that's when she knew – without a doubt – that Agent Sarah Walker was gone. Agent Sarah Walker was _never_ shy. _She_ wasn't Agent Sarah Walker. He thrust the bag at her, pulling her out of her thoughts.

She opened it, and stared at the contents. It looked like a pot, painted like… the shell casing of a bullet, and inside of the pot was paper, wadded up balls of paper, with the word "crap" scrawled on each.

"After your… renewing of life, the other day, I got to thinking how you might be feeling," he said, making her lift her chin and watching him through her eyelashes. He shrugged. "I could be wrong, but…"

"Go on," she said softly, but encouragingly.

"This is you," he said, nodding toward the pot. "Or, to be more precise, what it represents. You think you're one thing, or several things, and now you've moved on. Or at least you are ready to, but you're still full of… well… crap." She grinned at him. "Remembrance of a past life."

"So I have to get rid of the crap?" Chuck nodded slowly, smiling at her. "How do I do that?"

"Tell a friend what's on your mind?" he offered. She blew out a breath, and made a head motion to have him come in, but he shook his head. "Nah, we Bartowskis have a special way of getting rid of crap."

She raised an eyebrow.

}o{

They were sitting on a table, at the beach, eating ice cream. Two scoops in a waffle cone, to be exact. "Why ice cream, Chuck?" she asked, wondering if he knew how much she loved Rocky Road.

"Nothing is quite as bad when ice cream is involved," he replied. "So, let's not waste it." She nodded, a look of fear in her eyes, but determination. "Tell me something about your job you hated, but most people have no idea you had to do it."

She thought for a moment, and then she nodded. "Okay, so, the movies make it look like you seduce someone glamorous," she began.

"Are you telling me the bad guys aren't hot?" Chuck asked, trying to keep things light.

She grinned at him. "No, they are not, but… it's worse." She paused, and he laid a hand on hers.

"No judgements, okay? This is someplace safe for you to get out everything." She nodded.

"You know on TV how it looks like spies are sleeping with others left and right?" Chuck nodded. "That's not true… at least, it wasn't for me." She took a deep breath. "You really can't ask a US government employ to sleep with someone, that's kind of against the law." Chuck grinned at her. "Some do, but most of the time, seduction is a promise… let someone believe something great happened." She swallowed thickly. "Or… or make them believe they have cheated on their significant other so they can be manipulated into being your asset." Chuck's eyebrows furrowed.

"There was this guy, who had access to a computer program we needed." Sarah looked down, shame on her face. "We were out of time… if we didn't get that program, hundreds of lives would have been lost." She lifted her head, tears in her eyes. "Chuck, we drugged him, took pictures that made it look like…." She shook her head, and looked away. She blew out a breath, and tried to compose herself.

"He was a good man, he had no idea what his bosses were doing." She was silent for a second. "It's the easiest way when dealing with a bad guy, turn their SO, make them your asset. Most of them already know what their SO is doing so, no biggie, right?" Chuck nodded, understanding. "I got a damn commendation for it, Chuck!" Tears spilled down her face. "I got a damn commendation for dressing in next to nothing, and lying next to a good man, a decent man, while Bryce took pictures. All for the sake of the greater good. What about _his_ greater good? HUH?" She was sobbing. "What about his?" she asked in a whisper. She laid her head on the table, weeping.

She barely even registered the arm that went around her shoulder, and the body that hugged her from the side.

}o{

"Sorry about the ice cream," she said a little later. They were walking by the beach, Sarah lost in her head, thinking about that mission she had revealed to him earlier.

"Pffft," Chuck replied, waving his hand. "Think nothing of it." He was silent for a moment. "Are they still married?"

She looked over at him. He was still looking ahead, and glanced at her, a knowing smile on his face. "What?"

"Are they still married?" Chuck asked. Sarah shoved her hands in her pockets as she watched the sand in front of her as she walked. "I know you know."

"How do you know?" she asked softly.

"Because anyone who would react the way you did, would have to know. The not knowing would kill them," Chuck replied just as softly.

"They have a six-month-old," Sarah said so soft, she didn't know if he had heard her. But the grin on his face when she looked over at him told her that he did.

"When did you tell him?"

"What do you mean?"

Chuck stopped walking, and turned to face her, causing her to do the same. "When did you tell him that he didn't cheat on his wife?"

"Chuck, you don't understand. He was an asset. I used him, I burned him, and you don't tell them those things. That way, you have an in if you ever need it again."

Chuck studied her face. "When did you tell him, Sarah?" He held her gaze for a moment, until the tears began. She dropped her head, and he reached over and took her hand. "No judgments, remember?"

"A year and a half ago," she muttered.

"Huh," he said, a grin on his face. "I'm not the best at math-"

"Whatever, nerd," she said before she could stop herself. She had a sad smile on her face, but the one on his was growing. "Listen-"

"No, you listen," he cut in gently. "You had to do a terrible, sucky thing. You saved lives, right?" She nodded. "And then, you went and did something you weren't supposed to do." He watched her swallow. "You fixed it the best you could. That's not someone who is irredeemable, Sarah. That's someone who's trying to do the best they can in a very gray world."

She was silent for a second. "You're not going to let me win this, are you?" He shook his head slowly. "Okay. We'll just have to agree to disagree." She started to drop her head to look away, when his cupped index finger caught her chin, lifting it. Their eyes locked. She saw something in those eyes she hadn't seen from anyone in a very long time; admiration.

"No," he said. "I'm just going to keep showing you how you're wrong."

"That could take a _very_ long time," she said, a bit of teasing in her voice.

"You're lucky I'm very patient," he replied, his own teasing, but holding a promise. A promise that gave her hope. A promise that she wasn't sure how much she wanted him to keep.

* * *

A/N: This isn't over, is it?


	3. Ch 3, Fill the Pot

A/N: This isn't going to be a long fic, but it has at least one more chapter after this. At least….Part of me says keep this but the other part of me says I've told/have almost told the tale I want to, but I keep thinking about this. It is helping me deal with stuff, so who knows.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

* * *

It had been six months since she had met Chuck, and he still made her smile each time she saw him. Much like she was right now, seeing him standing in the doorway of her classroom.

Since he had brought her the pot that looked like a bullet, the two of them had met at least three times a week to talk about the 'crap' of her life… Except lately, they had been meeting more and more, and _not_ talking about her crap. The night before, she had shown up at his apartment because she wanted to talk to Ellie about a new recipe she had gotten from one of the ladies at the community center.

She looked over at one of her students, who was in turn giving _her_ a look. Maria looked at Chuck, and then back to Sarah. "Is that your boyfriend?" she asked, in Spanish.

"No," Sarah replied in the same language. "He's just a very good friend."

"Ahhhh," she said, giving Sarah a knowing look. "Maybe you should ask him out." Sarah shook her head, amused. She had been working here about a month now, teaching an ESL (English as a Second Language) class. And the class was growing at a ridiculous rate.

Six weeks earlier, she'd told him she was bored, and needed to find something to do with her life.

"I get it," Chuck said with a shrug. "We all have to work jobs we don't like, to pay the bills."

She grinned, and turned away from him. "Uh, I don't need to work," she said softly. He turned towards her, a confused look on his face. "Chuck…" she looked up to the sky, trying not to laugh. This guy… "Chuck, I went to Harvard business school. I invested my paychecks."

"So, you're okay then, about money?" he asked. She gave him a look. "Listen, I only ask, because you told me before you were good with languages, and I had an idea. But it's a volunteer job."

"Chuck… I have plenty of money to live on. Trust me," she replied.

"Good," he said, standing up, and wiping the sand from his backside, offered her his hand. "Then there is a place I want to show you."

"Are you thinking about him?" Maria asked her in Spanish, as the other students, young and old, filed out.

"Thinking about how he told me about this job," Sarah replied.

Maria looked at Chuck, and then back to Sarah. "He's good for you, and I think you're good for him."

"I'm not good for anyone," Sarah replied. "But next time, we don't talk about him, because you need to practice English. Okay?"

Maria nodded, grinning, and headed toward the door. She stopped right in front of Chuck, and glanced back at Sarah. "I think _he_ thinks you are good enough for him." Maria laughed and left, watching her teacher shake her head.

"Do you know any Spanish?" Sarah asked.

"No," Chuck admitted. "And I feel terrible about it. I do know a few phrases in Polish that I learned years ago, for some reason."

"I can't speak Polish, but I've never really had a reason to try," Sarah said with a shrug. "Hey, sorry about just inviting myself over last night."

Chuck cocked his head slightly to the side, and gave her a curious look. "I hope you know you're welcomed anywhere I am, ever, for any reason." She smiled at him. "Besides, it wasn't me you were coming to see," he reminded her, grinning.

"Oh, gonna be like that, huh?"

"You're the one who said, and I quote, 'I need to talk to Ellie because, and I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I need her help with this recipe, and you can't boil water.'"

"You can't," Sarah insisted.

"HA! I made hard boiled eggs this morning, so there!" Chuck said, coming into the room brandishing two bags.

"How many times did it take you?" Sarah asked, as always amused by his antics.

"Two," Chuck replied proudly. Sarah laughed, picked up the pot he had asked her to bring, and joined him at the window ledge in the classroom. "Uh," he began, and then cleared his throat. "I need to really apologize to you."

"For what?"

"I was a little insensitive last night," he said, rubbing the back of his head with his hand, wincing. "I didn't think anything about playing _Assassin's Creed_ in front of you."

"So, you're sorry you bored me?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.

"You said you thought the game was cool," he accused her.

"I did, and it's pretty, but… it's a video game, and it's just not my thing."

"Yeah, but…." He gave her a look. "You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?" She was, because she had _no_ idea what he was talking about. "_Assassins_," he said, emphasizing the word.

Her eyes got wide, and that's when it hit her. She hadn't even thought about it. She hadn't even thought about that part of her life. "Chuck…"

"See, I totally messed-"

She put her hand over his mouth, smiling as his eyes went wide. "Hush, nerd," she said, grinning. She moved her hand away, chiseling the look on his face into her memory. "I hadn't even thought about the name. I hadn't thought about being an assassin in… well… a while."

A slow smile grew on his face. "Sarah, that's awesome!" And then he pulled her into a hug that she just felt herself melt into. He quickly pulled away. "I'm so sorry, I got-"

"Chuck, it's fine," she said. "Listen, I'm good with hugs, from you."

"Okay," he replied, nodding. He cleared his throat. "So, this is perfect, because you are ready for the next step."

"Okay, sensei, what is my next step?"

"Well, young grasshopper," he replied, and she shoved him playfully. "You are already working on it. You are growing. You are taking the skills you learned, and using them for good." He reached into the bags, and pulled out potting soil and seeds.

"Will you help me?" she asked. "I mean, you've been there every step of the way."

"It would be my honor," he said. The two set to work, and in no time the seeds were planted in the pot. "So, there gardenias will grow, but they must be watered, and continue to be loved, and nurtured."

"So, you have to stick around, right?" Sarah asked. He turned to her, confused.

"To be nurtured, and… you know," she said with a shy smile.

He looked at her, a stunned expression on his face. He saw a stray hair had popped loose from her ponytail. "May I?" he asked softly. She nodded. "You can't speak Polish?" She shook her head. He reached over, and gently moved the stray lock of hair behind her ear. "_Kocham Ci__ę_," he said softly.

She smiled at him. "That sounds lovely. What does it mean?"

He grinned at her. "It's been awhile," he admitted.

"So, did you ask me if I was a goat?"

"Quite possibly," he admitted, but they both knew he hadn't. "So, big plans tonight?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I thought I might ask my friend what he was doing, but I hate to invade on his personal time."

"Really, because I'm pretty sure anyone who is your friend would love to hang with you," Chuck replied.

She studied him for a minute. "You just want me to buy you dinner."

"I mean, I wouldn't _hate_ it," he said smiling. She grinned at him. "Or…" he paused and took a deep breath. "I could buy _you_ dinner."

"Nah," she said, turning away to retrieve her coat. She felt his shoulders slump. "You don't make diddly at the Buy More, and you've done so much for me, I wouldn't feel right if I didn't pay."

"Wait, we're going to go eat, and _you_ want to pay?" Sarah nodded at him, grinning. "I need to run home and shower-"

"Chuck… pizza, beer, maybe dancing. I don't need you in your best heels."

"Shucks, and I was gonna shave my legs," he joked, grinning at her. "But, we both drove, so…"

"Run your car home, and I'll come get you, okay?"

He nodded, and headed toward the door. He paused at the doorframe and smacked his hand against it, turning to her. "Listen, this money thing," he began.

She crossed her arms. "If you say I can't pay for things," she began.

"No, no, I am a very modern man, and have _no_ problem with you spending money on me. But please never think I _expect_ it."

She smiled at him. "Chuck, please never change. Of course I don't."

"Me, change? Pffffth. I am who I am. See you in ten?" Sarah nodded and watched him leave.

"I know you are, Chuck, that's why I love you, too," she said to the empty room. "I probably should have told you I understand Polish."

* * *

A/N: One more, I think…I think….at LEAST one more.


	4. Ch 4, Nurture and Love

A/N: For those that do not know, Yvonne Strahovski's parents fled Poland before her birth and settled in Australia. She is the first and only natural born Australian in her family, and she regularly refers to herself as a Pausie. Her family speaks Polish and she has talked about how she was scared to take honors English in high school because English is her second language. I always found the fact she was a specialist in linguistics on the show to be fascinating.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck

* * *

Chuck opened the front door to the apartment, and was stunned to find someone on his couch. Well, maybe not finding _someone_, as much as it was finding _Sarah_ sitting on his couch, since she didn't have a key.

"Hey," she said with a grin. It had been a little over ten months since she had first seen him at Bryce's funeral. During the last four months, they had both been hard at work; he on his bachelor's degree, and her, on getting certified to teach college linguistic classes. His was required actual classes, hers… some phone calls, to get recommendations she couldn't put down on an application because of her past.

"Hi," he replied, dropping his bag. "What's up." She held up a manila envelope as she stood, pride on her face. Joy began to cover his. "Is… is that?" He was so excited he couldn't get the words out of his mouth. "Sarah…"

"I'm a professor," she said, grinning. His arms went wide, and she bounded across the room, launching herself at him. He caught and spun her, squeezing her tight.

"You deserve this," he said softly into her ear.

She did. It had taken him ten months, but he had finally convinced her that she did. She deserved it… and more.

}o{

It was evening. They were sitting on the table, their feet on the seat of the wooden picnic table, eating ice cream and watching the waves crash in. "So, you've got your Bachelor's huh?" she asked, giving him a shoulder bump

"Yep, some friend of mine, she thought I deserved it and told me to put in the hard work," Chuck responded, grinning at her.

"Sounds like a good friend," Sarah said, grinning and not looking at him.

"She's the best, and… and she's more than a friend." Sarah turned toward him, and saw anxiety on his face. She couldn't keep the amusement off her own. "She's the most important person in my life," he said softly.

"Huh," she said, putting a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, enjoying his squirming.

"And look at you, a college professor," Chuck said, trying to quickly change the subject.

"It's at the Center, and I'm not tenured," she began.

"A. College. Professor," he repeated. "You're gonna have _so_ many students after _youuuuuuu_."

"Probably," she said, nodding, staring at the ocean, feeling the conflicting emotions flow out of him. She used every bit of her training not to smile or laugh. "Professor Walker… I don't know if I like that."

"You could just be Sarah," Chuck offered. She turned toward him. "I mean, you're never _just_ Sarah, but that could be how they address you."

"It's not my real name, you know," she said, taking another bite of ice cream. "Sarah Walker, it's not mine. I mean, I feel like a Sarah, because of you." He smiled at that. "But, Walker… I don't know, I think it should be changed."

"Patel?" Chuck offered, making her snort. "Oh, oh, I know… Barnes."

"Eww, to both of them," she said, shaking her head.

"It's Grimes, isn't it?"

"It's the beard," she replied dreamily. "There's just something about it."

"Weird, you know, you changing your name. I didn't even know you were dating anyone," Chuck said, clearing his throat, trying to appear disinterested.

"I never said marriage," Sarah said with a shrug. She watched him shift out of the corner of her eye. "I haven't even been dating." She turned toward him. "Hey, I just realized something."

"What's that?" he asked, trying to remain cool.

"Why haven't _you_ been dating?" Sarah asked. "I mean, you're funny, you're great, you're good-looking…"

"You don't have to stop," he told her. She shoulder-bumped him. "I've been doing a lot lately, and I've realized I'd rather spend time with you, than… than dating… and you know, there are those…" he trailed off.

"Hmmm?" she hummed, pretty sure she knew where he was going, but wanting him to eventually get there on his own.

"Some could say _we've_ been dating," he rushed out.

"Some?" she asked, an angelic look on her face. "Chuck, do _you_ think we've been dating?"

"Well, you see, it's not that simple," he began.

"So, it's complicated?" she asked, watching him dig the hole deeper and deeper, having no intention of relieving him of the shovel anytime soon.

"Yes," Chuck said, nodding. "We are friends, right?"

"No," she told him. His face fell. "You said I was the most important person in the world." His eyes went wide. "Was I not supposed to know that was about me?" He couldn't speak. "If we're honest, I feel the same way about you."

"Right," he said in a strangled voice. "So, the way we met, it was…"

"Different."

"Yes," he agreed, wiping his hands on his pants. It was warm, but not warm enough to warrant all the sweat on his palms. "I was concerned that the emotional connection we had-"

"Emotional connection," she repeated. "I like that," she said, nodding. "I like that a lot."

"Thank you," he chirped. "I felt like it was a lot, and maybe one or both of us could be misreading it for something it was not."

"So, to sum up, you were worried I'd be hot for teacher?" Sarah asked, grinning. Chuck ducked his head. "I just need to know one thing, and one thing only, Chuck Bartowski." He lifted his head and looked at her. "I need to know if you knew that, while I can't _speak_ Polish, that I can _understand_ Polish?"

The color drained from his face. "I did not," he replied. She nodded, amusement back on her face. "I need to know something, Sarah," he said. She grinned at his attempt at bravery. "Is there a certain last name you'd ever consider changing to?"

"Oh, there's one," she said. She looked off at the waves that crashed into the shore. Turning back to him, she reached over, slipped her hand behind his neck, and pulled him close to her. "_Kocham Ci__ę_," she said softly, and pulled him into a kiss.

They pulled away some time later, each searching the other's eyes. "Please tell me it's Bartowski," he said to her, holding her gaze.

"It is," Sarah said. "It is, but I need to tell you something. I'm not redeemable."

"Sarah," he said, seriousness creeping into his voice.

"Chuck, you showed me that I was always a good person, and I never needed redemption." His face softened. "Thank you," she said just above a whisper, tears falling from her eyes. "I love you."

* * *

A/N: Yeah, that did it.


End file.
